


You Make Me Sing to the Houseplants

by bench



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bench/pseuds/bench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You went to the town of Night Vale to pursue your love of science. That's it. Not to finally find a place you could call home or to flagrantly disregard the scientific method in desperate bids to save the town from a variety of unpredictable disasters, and certainly not to get involved with a whimsical radio broadcaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

You went to the town of Night Vale to pursue your love of science. That's it. Not to finally find a place you could call home or to flagrantly disregard the scientific method in desperate bids to save the town from a variety of unpredictable disasters, and certainly not to get involved with a whimsical radio broadcaster. When you planned this scientific venture you had a wonderful vision of yourself spending fourteen hours a day gathering samples, bent over a microscope, using your shiny new mass spectrometer. Normal science stuff. It is fairly obvious in retrospect that this sort of dream would be utterly impossible in an illogical town like Night Vale. 

Before Night Vale you worked in a prestigious research lab for an Ivy League university. And at first it was really all you wanted from life. you had the equipment and the funding and the personnel to peruse the most audacious experiments and test the most cutting edge hypothesizes . But the reality of the lab paled in comparison to your scientific dreams. No matter how much _you_ wanted to focus on your projects, it seemed like nearly everyone else had other priorities. There were those who shared your passions and ideals, but they were so outnumbered by the less-driven scientists that they hadn't the strength to pressure the other researchers into a better performance. 

The other scientists bickered, gossiped, and, worst of all, _dated_. _Each other_! The constant tension in the lab was unbelievably distracting and it constantly pulled people that you relied away from your work. It was kind of like seeing all these people throw your dreams away. There were so many people in the lab that were always interrupting your work, your passion. It was, quite frankly, infuriating. And the worst offender was the head scientist. He dated other lab workers indiscriminately and, worst of all, gave promotions based on these dalliances! He would consistently cut the most interesting research projects because they "wildly violated international regulations" and "would bankrupt several smaller countries." His flagrant abuse of his position and disregard for the beauty of scientific research combined to drive you away.

So you made your plans and left the lab. You pulled several consecutive weeks of three-hours-of-sleep-a-night to write a magnificent proposal to the World Government Shadow Agency for Scientific Advancement while simultaneously wrapping up all your projects at the lab. You wanted to study something completely different. Something that no one had ever really heard of before. Something that could rekindle your passion for scientific study. You wanted to study the strange and inexplicable happenings of the infamous town of Night Vale. And the vague yet menacing government agency to which you sent your proposal to offered you funding like you couldn't believe. They offered you use of an old cold war bunker as a research facility and housing for you and your scientists. You filled a van with autoclaves and test tubes and pipettes and ordered a scanning electron microscope and an industrial-grade 3D printer, just in case. You hired your most tolerable and reliable co-workers from under your boss's nose, packed up your apartment, and drove off to your new future.

Night Vale was at once weirder and not as weird as you expected. You read about all of the strange and unexplainable happenings when you were doing research for your proposal. All of that was exactly as you expected, but the people of Night Vale were completely unexpected in two ways. The first was how _normal_ they all seemed. Maybe they had six eyes or upside down ears or hair that waved with a breeze that no one else could feel, but they all did their grocery shopping and went to work or school and cheered on the local football team. In that way Night Vale was just every other town that you had visited. You had really expected it to be different is some way, you aren't sure how. The second way that Night Vale surprised you was the way all these normal-ish people treated all of the incomprehensibly bizarre things that happened to them every single day in the same blasé way they reacted to going to the dentist or some similarly mundane task. It seemed impossible that people who act so utterly normal would be unfazed by needing to alter their commute to avoid roaming herds of flesh eating antelope or spending an entire day only able to move by tap dancing or sweeping swarms of giant beetles off of the sidewalks so that the kids don't get to school with beetle guts all over their shoes. It's all just part of the daily routine in Night Vale and you don't think you will ever get used to it.

This is not to say at all that you are not enjoying you stint in Night Vale. Indeed, you would say that you are the happiest you have ever been in your life. You have cupboards full of agar and petri dishes and test tubes and the centrifuges are always spinning and the scanning electron microscope is in constant demand. Your scientists are as passionate as you are, scientific mysteries throw themselves at you almost as quickly as you can catalog them, and your reports to the Shadow Government are received with overwhelmingly positive reviews.

And on top of this, you have found a place for yourself in Night Vale. Apparently the little community never had the chance to understand how badly they _needed_ a resident scientist. Whenever you are shopping at the Ralph's or having your weekly mandatory dinner at Big Rico's people are always quick to tell you how much more quickly the daily disasters that they put up with are concluded with your interference. You will never forget how a mother thanked you for saving her daughter when you developed an anti-venom to the poison-spitting flowers that appeared one morning just before school was to start (the flowers quickly died of natural causes, probably heat exhaustion, but not before you harvested a few for study). Instead of working behind layers of bureaucracy on projects that will probably never see the light of day, you are helping people all the time and it's brilliant! Instead of being defined by your position in the lab you are defined by your abilities to help and to learn. It is unbelievably fulfilling.

But that is certainly not all that is good about Night Vale. In fact, you are leaving out the town's greatest advantage over everywhere else you have lived. At first you were quite wary of the earnest radio broadcaster. It is hard to trust someone who admits to being in love-at-first-sight, and it is even harder to trust someone who announces it over public radio. Your initial decision had been to ignore Cecil until he bored of you. You thought he was only interested in you because you were new, an oddity in Night Vale where most people can trace their family lines in the town back over a dozen generations. However, as you become more and more of a member of the Night Vale community and less and less of an outsider (once you defeated a librarian in single combat you were pretty much accepted by everyone) and Cecil's interest didn't wane, you came to the conclusion that there might be something real there. Something significant. And you invited him on a date. Because, while the attention might be rather overwhelming, it was also very flattering, and it wouldn't hurt to get to know him a little better, right?

In all honesty you expected the entire venture to end in some sort of inventive new Night Vale disaster. Yes, your date was rather frequently interrupted, but the interruptions were the regular sort of Night Vale happenings. There was no painful awkwardness in your conversation, no uncomfortable confessions, no obviously problematic bodily mutations. You propose a second date at an unspecified future day and time as you believe is expected in these situations. Cecil immediately accepts with flattering enthusiasm. 

The next day you listen to his account of the date on the radio and your colleagues laugh at your giddy smile and offer heartfelt congratulations that you have "finally gotten out of the lab!" You endure with good grace the teasing smiles directed your way by your fellow Night Vale citizens as you go about your day and even laugh through your embarrassment at the care package of condoms and lubricant thoughtfully left on your bed by the sheriff's secret police. In fact you are somewhat amazed about how well you are taking the whole thing in stride. You come to the conclusion that it is only your eagerness to be with Cecil that is keeping you from some sort of hysterical breakdown at the absurdity of the whole situation. Having the entire town of Night Vale living vicariously through your relationship adventure is somewhat stressful, not to mention how well over half of the town is incredibly jealous of your good fortune. The importance of Cecil's broadcasts to the wellbeing of Night Vale has hardly escaped you. He frequently acts as the voice of reason during times of crisis or confusion. By sharing his thoughts and feelings along with the news, Cecil provides an air of normalcy that the Night Vale citizens can latch on to. As a result on some level you feel bad for having this piece of him to yourself.

And while you certainly do enjoy spending time with Cecil, at the same time you are astonishingly afraid. Somehow you have quickly become very attached to Cecil. It has been far longer than you care to admit since you were even remotely interested in pursuit of the whole "dating" thing, instead preferring to pour your passions into the pursuit of science. You are out of practice, you aren't sure you ever were in practice, and there isn't really any good way to study up. You are dedicated to making it work and unbelievably interested in Cecil, so you are not willing to give up with any sort of ease. All you can do is try your best and hope that you don't ruin everything. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos and Cecil spend more time together. Carlos makes some questionable life choices.

Astonishingly, you _don't_ manage to ruin everything, at least not right away.

Three days after your first date you propose more definite plans for a second, heart in your throat. It has been quite some time since you were unsure of how to act in any sort of situation, and your lack of dating practice continues to haunt you. On your first date, Cecil expressed interest in your work, and had even gone so far as to enthusiastically participate in your long-awaited tests of the trees of Mission Grove Park. In retrospect, this was probably not the most romantic date activity (and Cecil got sap in his furry pants) but he seemed to enjoy the outing well enough. Perhaps sticking with activities established as enjoyable isn't as adventurous as would be ideal, but you are determined to play it safe. After all, you definitely aren’t the best at small talk and perhaps you handled the end-of-date sitting-in-the-car awkwardness a _little_ badly, but you were able to kiss Cecil goodnight _and_ return the Night Vale population to corporeal form so the whole thing was no doubt a rousing success by anyone's standards. 

On your second date you walk through Radon Canyon and Cecil helps you collect samples. You brought some low-grade explosives so that you can take samples from a few feet into the walls of the canyon and Cecil declares setting them off to be the most fun he has ever had with "incendiaries of under 2.72 × 106 J/kg of explosive potential." For someone without any claim to a scientific background Cecil is gratifyingly excited to assist you with your studies, and surprisingly knowledgeable about explosives, which he attributes to "youthful malarkey". His eagerness is profoundly endearing to you and honestly you couldn't imagine a better date-time activity. In your experience very few people who you had any reason to impress on an interpersonal level have been willing to listen to you reflect upon your scientific ventures, and though you never intended to make an interest in your work a priority with a potential significant other, the impact that it has on your relationship is undeniable. You always feel comfortable speaking at length when called upon to discuss your experiments, and your passion is so much a part of your very soul that it opens conversational doors into your other thoughts and experiences.

It takes the better part of the afternoon and evening to traverse the length of Radon Canyon and by the end of the date you have largely run out of words, but the silence is companionable rather than awkward and you are ready to declare another success. As you climb out of the canyon, Cecil grasps your hand, and you walk to the parking lot with fingers intertwined. 

That night you lay awake pondering your reaction to Cecil's interest in your work. You had always believed that it was nothing more than your personal interest that drove your passion for science, but Cecil's enthusiastic response is so undeniably gratifying that it causes you to somewhat doubt that your passion for science is as genuine as you had suspected. Is it possible that you had been channeling your enthusiasm into science in a misguided attempt to make up for the fact that there was no person who could hold your interest and maintain interest in you? Is your fondness for Cecil going to distract from your passion for science? Or possibly the other way around? You come to the conclusion that this kind of introspective ponderance is not conducive to dating _or_ science and decide to continue to work and see Cecil as you feel appropriate. 

This proves to be a wise decision, because Cecil's positive influence channels back into your studies so that you are more excited and passionate than ever. You find that when there is someone who cares about the work that you do as an extension of caring about you, you are able to work that much better. In your drive to impress and entertain Cecil, you find that you concentrate better, get better results, and start more daring experiments than you ever have before. Your reports to the World Government are better than ever because they have become an outlet for planning your tales for Cecil. Your fellow scientists proclaim you far more relaxed and easygoing, even encouraging you to hold off on new tests to spend time with Cecil.

The whole thing becomes a glorious positive feedback loop of successful science and equally successful dates.

One Saturday several weeks into your dating life Cecil convinces you to take the entire day off from your work to help him oversee the Night Vale community rummage sale. He claims that having a scientist around will help ensure that the death and dismemberment toll will be much lower than at last summer's event. It seems very unlikely that the Sheriff's Secret police will start another shoot out with the angels following Old Woman Josie, and you doubt that you could make much of a difference if a similar situation were to arise, but you concede when Cecil promises to cook you dinner afterwards. 

(The sale was an overwhelming success, with only twelve deaths due to contact with unexpectedly cursed objects, a record low. Dinner was an abject failure due to unanticipated power outages caused by the tiny people from the underground city below lane five of the Desert Flower Bowling Alley.)

That evening when you return to the lab and perform your nightly walkthrough you realize that in your eagerness to spend the day with Cecil you had neglected to refill the feed bottles for the bloodsucking hamsters that morning and several had been eaten by their comrades. As you top off the last bottle with your supply of oxygenated goat’s blood and mourn the deaths of your fluffy test subjects it hits you. At some point in the time since you had begun dating, you have started doing the single most frustrating thing that drove you out of your old lab in the first place: allowing interpersonal relationships to get in the way of doing science.

You have become a hypocrite of the worst order and it leads you to question everything that you have been doing. Are you _actually_ getting more work done now that you are dating Cecil, or is that a lie you’ve been telling yourself as an excuse to spend more time with him? Is the feedback you get from the World Government _actually_ more positive, or has the time you have been spending with Cecil given you a more positive outlook on life in general? Do your colleagues actually approve of your dates, or are they only saying that to spare your feelings (or even worse, because they value time without you in the lab)?

Your initial reaction is to immediately dismiss these misgivings as absurd. It shouldn’t be a problem if Cecil is at the forefront of your mind occasionally, as long as you continue to put science first. Besides, you are happier than you have ever been, and isn't that what matters? Unfortunately, the idea you so readily dismissed quickly blossoms into a sort of personal crisis as you repeatedly find your mind drifting off of what you are working on to focus on Cecil. Pouring agar for streak plates reminds you of the time Cecil sneezed in a batch and the results cultured the most interesting bacteria you have seen to date. Studying samples under the microscope reminds you of the time you requested Cecil gather samples of blood from the townspeople and had returned with so many volunteers it took nine hours to process them all. Once, you noticed yourself singing the weather to the poison-spitting orchids that you so dangerously harvested!

However, you still don't know for sure that these moments of distraction are endangering your studies, so you decide it best to employ the scientific method. Now that you have thoroughly examined the repercussions of spending copious time with Cecil, it is time to try spending time apart from him and see if this leads to superior results. You resolve that you will put some space between yourself and Cecil and carefully record the efficiency of your work. For a week, you decide, you will decline to meet in person and reply to his texts in only the most terse of language. 

Unfortunately, this is not going to be easy. In your old life you would have considered Cecil to be extremely clingy. If he goes more than a few hours without hearing from you he begins to send you walls of text messages and spams your Facebook. if he doesn't hear your voice in more than two days he calls and calls until you answer. When you really think about it, in your old life he would have escalated well beyond clingy into the realm of obsession, but this is Night Vale and standards are drastically different. In a town where anyone may disappear at any time and never return at all, or return subtly different than when they departed, it becomes much more important to keep compulsive contact with the people you care about. So instead of coming off as creepy, Cecil's need for nearly constant communication shows his genuine affection for you in a way that is undeniably sweet. It is also very comforting to know that there is someone who will quickly be made aware if you are taken or transformed in some way that prevents you from operating your phone. 

Naturally you do not cut off contact to a point where he will fear for your life, as after all you are trying to be scientific, not cruel, but it is still difficult to go about your day normally knowing that Cecil is no doubt fretting over your sudden evasiveness. He has by now received enough reprimands from station management that he has stopped airing your relationship developments over the radio, but you can still hear the stress and anxiety in his voice during his daily broadcasts starting the second day of your experiment. You knew that Cecil would not react well to your reticence, but, as you soon come to realize, the actual results are far more dramatic and upsetting than you had anticipated. Your concerns over his misery gradually proves to be much, much more distracting than any happy thoughts of him that you were having before. All you can do is wonder where he is, what he's doing without you, who he's with. You find yourself overwhelmed with a crushing sense of loneliness that has nothing to do with the ongoing feelings delivery service. You are used to seeing Cecil several times a week, and your evenings seem empty without his presence to look forward to. He was always willing to talk when you had nothing to do while a test runs in the lab, and now you have no one to vent to and bounce ideas off of. You snap at your colleagues, give up on your reports after hours of useless, roundabout explanations, and lay awake with worry. You are very confident as to what the eventual results of your experiment will be (decidedly in favor of continuing to date Cecil), but you refuse to let your increasingly frantic emotions get in the way of seeing the test to its bitter end.

Just before your self-inflicted week of misery has ended, Cecil stops texting you altogether. The absence of his bi-hourly messages set you on edge like nothing ever has before. His voice on the radio is more resigned and lifeless than you have ever heard it and you start to wonder if you have made a terrible mistake. What if he has given up on you? Maybe without constant interaction he has grown bored. All you have to do is wait until tomorrow morning. Then you can call him and apologize and explain everything. But you can't help but wonder if it's too late. You consider calling _now_ , but is seems that at this point your relationship is either ruined for good or a few more hours won't matter. You decide to finish the experiment. 

That night, after the broadcast, you receive your first text from him all day.

 **From Cecil:** are you breaking up with me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter should be up in a week or less.
> 
> I am on [tumblr](a-bench.tumblr.com)!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then they all live happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that finally earns the E rating, woo! It is also as long as the previous two combined :/
> 
> Much, much, much thanks to [chair](spookynectar.tumblr.com) for her extensive and wonderful beta-ing.

And just like that the experiment is over.

It is on one level somewhat insulting that Cecil would think that you would sink so low as to break up with him through avoidance, but you are mostly taken with horror that your innocent intentions went so awry. You always knew that what you were doing would hurt Cecil in the short term. How could it not? You would have to be blind to not see how he feels about you, and forcing a separation between you was always going to be painful. But when you get down to it you performed the experiment because you care for him too. You care for him more than you ever have for anyone, and it scared you. Your whole life centers around control groups, independent variables, clean environments. So you naturally tried to handle your feelings for Cecil the same way...which backfired phenomenally. You knew that he couldn't possibly see your experiment as what is, in retrospect, an expression of affection, but you never believed that he would take it as badly as this.

You were in the middle of running a spectrum analysis on the rocks that you and Cecil had collected on your second date, and it's a bit of a time sensitive procedure, but you would rather re-run it than allow Cecil to continue to stew in what you can only assume are borderline hysterics. That's where you would probably be if you were in his shoes. You pause just long enough to grab your keys and put on a fresh lab coat before you proceed to break at least three Municipal Traffic Standards and Laws (there will be a ticket and a huge stack of paperwork from the Sherriff's Secret Police waiting on your desk when you get home) in your haste to get to Cecil's house.

As you sprint up to his door, lab coat flaring behind you, you realize that you should probably have told Cecil you were coming over and probably informed him that you are not, in fact, breaking up with him before you left the lab. You feel a wave of guilt at the stress and uncertainty you're no doubt currently causing him by delaying your response, but it's too late now.

You stand on the stoop for a long moment to catch your breath and smooth your hair back before knocking on the door. (Cecil's doorbell _screams_ and you have vowed to never press it again after your disastrous first use.)

There is no response.

You knock again, louder.

Still nothing.

You hesitantly try the door knob.

The door creaks open.

"Cecil?" you call hesitantly.

"… Carlos???"

The sound of footsteps sprinting down the hallway is all the warning you get before he flings himself at you, nearly sending you both falling backwards out the open front door.

He then suddenly pulls himself out of your arms and shrinks back against the wall across from you. His eyes are red and puffy with tears and his normally neat attire is in disarray. He slumps against the hemlock-printed wallpaper as though he is too defeated to keep upright on his own.

"Why… why didn't you text me back?"

Your heart breaks.

"I just needed to see you. As quickly as I could. I'm sorry."

His eyes widen and he stands up straighter.

"I'm not breaking up with you Cecil! There was this experiment, I needed to see if I could live without you, it's stupid. I was so stupid, Cecil, I'm so sorry."

He takes a step forward and gives you a confused look. "To see… if you could live… without me? You want to live without me?"

"No! No. I… I don't know. I have to study things that I don't understand, Cecil. I need to run experiments, perform tests. And I didn't understand my feelings for you. I still don't, but it doesn’t matter now. I would rather be confused with you then understand alone."

"You ran an experiment? On us?? People aren't experiments, Carlos! Especially the people you care about!"

"I know, I'm sorry, I just love you and it's so confusing! Can you ever forgive-"

"You love me??"

"I… yes-"

He grabs you by the tie and hauls you forward to avoid the door, which slams shut apparently of its own accord. He then puts a hand to your chest and shoves you back against it, capturing your lips with his own. The kiss feels like victory and forgiveness. You messed up, but it's going to be ok. The experiment failed, but you are happy again.

He pulls back abruptly and fists his hands in your hair, angling your head so that you are looking directly into his eyes.

"Never do this to me again, Carlos-the-Scientist!"

"Never."

You push hard against his grip on your hair to find his lips again. You knew that you missed him before, but now that you have him in your arms again it all comes rushing back. You kiss like the world is ending, desperate and frantic. You pour all of your regret and love and passion into your embrace, curling your tongue around his, pressing your hands up under his shirt to feel how _real_ he is, how precious. You never want to be apart from him like that again. It doesn't matter if he distracts from your science, and it doesn't matter if he helps. You have finally found something more important to you than your studies, and you are never letting him go.

With your hands already up his shirt it is easy to slide it off and Cecil takes that as your cue to abandon the foyer and make for rooms of a more private nature.

Cecil walks backwards down the hall to his bedroom, pushing your lab coat off your shoulders as you stumble forward. It drags behind you for a while since you are unwilling to release your grip on his hips long enough to let it drop. He worms his hands between you to work at the buttons of your shirt and loosen your tie and you finally relent, sending shirt and coat to land in a heap on the floor.

Cecil's hands are everywhere as if he is trying to assure himself that you are really there, that you are real. They grip your shoulders, clutch your hair, and brush up and down your sides. You cling to him, promising in your tight grip around his waist that you will never let him go again. Cecil is making a soft noise in the back of his throat and you imagine that if you were to release his mouth it would be your name on his lips over and over. The thought fills you with a sense of possession and you start moving with purpose towards Cecil's bedroom while you bite at his lips and  stroke his mouth with your tongue.

Once again the door acts on its own, swinging open before you have the chance to press Cecil up against it, but you don't have the chance to be disappointed about it. As soon as you are over the threshold the door latches shut almost silently and Cecil presses you back against it instead. He wraps his arms behind your neck while you continue to cling to his waist and you stand and kiss until you are dizzy with it. You probably aren’t breathing enough but you don't care. [You made a mistake and he forgave you.] You love him and he loves you back. All your fear has been replaced with the love that you can finally admit you feel and you feel light and so very alive. You kiss your way down his throat and he gasps out your name before moving in to kiss you in return.

After what feels like hours Cecil pulls back and gestures with one hand towards the bed behind him.

"Is it ok…?"

"Yes!"

And with that you are walking together towards the bed, hands scrabbling at belt buckles and zippers. You kick off your shoes and toss your socks away while Cecil does the same. Your pants fall in a pile on the floor as the back of Cecil's knees hit the edge of the bed, and he sits on it heavily. You both stop and just gaze at each other. He slowly reaches up to grab your tie, which somehow escaped your clothes-removal frenzy. He pulls you gently forward until you're hovering over him and his back is flat against the bed. He slides your tie off, dropping it on the bed near the headboard.

You have never been with Cecil in this way, and before The Experiment the idea of doing so scared you far more than you would care to admit. In retrospect your fear was probably tied into your unwillingness to admit to yourself that you feel the way you do about Cecil. But now you are nothing but eager, ready to prove your devotion in any way you can.

You lean down to cross the scant inches between you, and press your lips gently to his.

"I am so, so sorry," you whisper. "I will never hurt you again."

Cecil smiles at you and now the love in his eyes fills you with happiness instead of fear.

He suddenly puts his hands on your shoulders and flips you both over so that you are lying on your back and he is kneeling over you. His hands slide from your shoulders up to where your own hands lie next to your head. He interlaces his finders with yours and slides them up so your arms are stretched above your head and your hands are pressed into the mattress with Cecil's weight. He presses light butterfly kisses all over your face and you try to arch into his body, demanding more, but his weight on your hands and your hips keeps you pinned and you groan.

"Carlos, Carlos, Carlos, beautiful wonderful Carlos…"

"Cecil please! Do something!"

He pulls back slightly so you can see his wicked grin.

"Oh, I don't think so. You very nearly broke my fragile heart, dear Carlos. I think you should wait for me like I waited for you." He begins kissing down your neck to bite gently at the juncture of neck and shoulder, making you shudder.

You are somewhat shocked by this new, teasing Cecil, but mostly just really turned on. As he continues to bite at your neck and shoulder you can feel your dick leaving precome between your bodies as you writhe underneath him.

Suddenly Cecil pushes off of you and stands beside the bed. If it weren't for the swollen length of his cock you would think that he wasn't enjoying himself at all with how put together he is acting, especially when all you can do is pant and lie on the bed in a puddle of arousal.

"Carlos, Carlos, please turn around for me, Carlos. Put your head on the pillows?"

You comply as best you can with your limbs turned to jelly. Once you are in position you look to see what Cecil is doing and groan at the unbridled lust in his gaze. ]When you reach for your dick he snaps out a hand to grab your wrist.

"You're waiting, remember?"

You can't deny him when he is standing over you all lean and sexy and using _that_ voice. You lace your hands behind your head in an attempt to stave off temptation and Cecil smiles in approval. You fight to control your breathing as he climbs gracefully onto the bed and sits on his ankles between your legs. He stares at you for a long moment, his eyes hungry and full of appreciation.

"No hands, dear Carlos, can you do that for me?"

You clench your fingers tighter and nod.

He frowns and somehow you find your voice.

"Yes, yes, yes, Cecil please, I promise!"

And with that he places his hands on your hips and lowers his head to place a gentle kiss to the tip of your cock. You groan and try to thrust up into the promise of sensation, hut he pulls away and presses down on your hips, shooting you and admonishing glare.

He leans down again, this time with more weight on your hips, and licks a slow stripe along the underside.

"Cecil!"

He licks all over your shaft but refuses to go any further and you could cry of it. You have been hard for what feels like forever and you are not nearly as patient with sex as you are with science. Every lick and kiss and gentle suck feels like agony with how tense you are and with how badly you need him. Your head is full of please and more and Cecil, Cecil, Cecil. He pulls back just enough that he can speak.

"Oh, Carlos. You sound so beautiful." And as he sinks down to finally, _finally_ take your length in the heat of his mouth you realize that you were saying all of that _out loud_ and when he sucks hard you nearly scream.

You want your hands in his hair so that you can stroke it gently and show him how you feel. You want your fists in his hair so that you can stop his damn teasing and thrust into that soft heat again and again. You want… Cecil. You want more of him in every way and you feel like you are going to die of it.

Suddenly he stops all together and you realize that somehow your hands _are_ in his hair. You let go quickly in shock, but Cecil is glaring at you as much as he can with his lips red and slightly swollen and his hair all mussed from your wandering hands. He crawls his way slowly up your body and captures your wrists in one of his hands. With the other he grabs your abandoned tie and holds it up before your face.

"Beloved Carlos… is this ok?"

You nod your head feverishly, desperate for anything that will get him to return to your neglected cock. He slides the still-looped end of the tie around your wrists and pulls it tight before tying the other end around the bars of the headboard. You shift your hands to grip the length of the tie and you gaze up at Cecil as he admires his handiwork.

 

"Better."

He leans over and kisses you hard, over and over until you start to feel lightheaded, his tongue thrusting into your mouth and his teeth biting at your lips. Your dick occasionally brushes against his leg and you moan piteously when you find yourself bucking up into empty air. You are too overwhelmed to respond as well as you would like, but Cecil doesn’t seem to mind.

Once you are suitably breathless he moves slowly back down your body, kissing every inch of skin on his way down. You have never felt so cherished, so wanted. It seems silly, but Cecil loves you back like science never could. _That_ is why you can care about him so strongly in such a comparatively short amount of time. What you crave, what you _need_ is someone who can return your feelings and care for you as you care for them.

As he moves over your stomach you begin to tense with anticipation and his hands brush up and down your sides until you feel yourself relaxing again. You are loving this more perceptive, more possessive Cecil, but you really wish he would hurry up. He bites at your hipbones and kisses down your inner thigh.

"Cecil _please_!"

He looks up at you with his mouth hovering over the head of your cock.

"Carlos."

"Please!"

"Carlos. Repeat after me." He finally sounds a little breathless. "It is ok to love somebody."

"Cecil, touch me, please!"

"Say it!"

"it's… nnn, it's ok to love somebody I know that now, so _please_!"

He finally licks gently over your tip before angling his head and taking your length into your mouth, pressing against the underside with his tongue. He pushes down more and more until his nose is nearly pressing against your stomach. You want to move, to thrust, but with his hands back on your hips and your hands tied to the headboard all you can do is say his name over and over and try not to shout when he swallows around you.

Cecil pulls up to suck hard at your head and lick at your tip again while he catches his breath before pushing back down[ on you again]. Everything feels hot and wet and amazing and you want more even as the sensation is almost too much. You feel like you are standing at the edge of a precipice and all you want is for Cecil to push you over. He pulls up and sucks again and you fall. 

He pulls off of you gently and reaches up to untie your hands from the headboard, murmuring praise to you all the while. You are too overcome to say anything in response, but as soon as you are free you push up from the bed and shove Cecil onto his back clumsily. You aren't coordinated to do much more than suck desperately at the head of Cecil's dick, wanting to give him the same pleasure that he afforded you. Cecil gasps and bites his fist to keep from yelling. With all that you had been doing together it doesn’t take long until he fists the sheets with his free hand, curls his toes, and comes with a groan.

You both lay panting for a while, Cecil flat on his back, you on your stomach with your head resting on his hip. As soon as you have gathered the energy to move again you shift to lie back against the pillows again. You reach down to tug weakly at Cecil's hand until he crawls up lethargically to join you. Together you climb under the blankets. You wrap Cecil in your arms and kiss at his neck until he relaxes with sleep.

As you lay behind the dozing Cecil you finally fully accept that you don’t mind how he takes you away from science - Cecil is more important that any experiment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so I finish my first ever multi-chapter fic! Sorry it took so long, I got very distracted by Pokemon. If anyone wants to battle/trade with me, message me your friend code on [my tumblr](a-bench.tumblr.com) and we can totes do that!

**Author's Note:**

> This will earn its tags in later chapters! Leave me a comment here or on [my tumblr](a-bench.tumblr.com), that would be pretty cool.


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